


Dance

by inabodycastofglass



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dancing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6431188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabodycastofglass/pseuds/inabodycastofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien runs into some friends at the club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first installment for my "story a day" month.

Having two lives would seem difficult to most people, but Adrien managed to switch between them flawlessly.

For two months he’d been coming to this club, enjoying the upbeat music, dim lighting, neon glow sticks flailing about. Everyone was half naked in baggy pants and tight shirts, faces covered in paint, dripping sweat, hips swinging, chests popping. The room was sweltering and it smelt of sweat.

And Adrien loved it. His everyday life was droll and structured and empty. Here he could feel the energy bouncing off the walls like atoms forming plasma.

So when he saw three people from his school, two of them friends, he felt like this world was collapsing. He stopped dancing, his partner giving him a shrug and moving on to someone who could keep up their energy.

He felt like the Titanic, but down the side, filling with water, sinking ever faster, a perfect escape broken and replaced with the promise of an end.

Not that he didn’t like his friends, or being with them, but to them he was Adrien Agreste, classical ballet prodigy. Here he was just part of the crowd, another body to move to the beat. No one expected anything of him. Here he could just be.

He was going to spill everything, and apologise for not bringing them here before when they walked right past him without even glancing his way.

His feelings were mixed. On the one hand he was relieved. Obviously. Nothing had changed. He was still a nameless being.

On the other, his friends didn’t recognise him.

He turned to them as they found a spot where they fit, Alya and Nino getting right into the music.

Marinette, who was always a little awkward from what he'd seen, just sort of bounced around , keeping her arms pulled in close, looking around.

The other two he understood, but this didn’t really seem like her scene. And, judging by how she pulled into herself every time someone bumped into her, he was right. She needed to loosen up or she’d be eaten alive.

His gaze drew her attention, and they locked eyes.

It was decided. He’d take his chances playing with fire.

He pushed through the crowd, keeping his eyes on her.

She pulled back as he approached, looking around for who else he could be looking at.

He smirked down at her, the environment forcing them closer physically than they’d ever been.

“Do you want to dance?”

“What?”

He tried yelling his request again.

She cupped her ear and shook her head.

He held his hand out to her.

She looked to Alya and Nino, her cheeks as pink as if she’d been dancing like everyone else.

Alya gave her a thumbs up without pausing in her dancing.

She took a breath and grasped his hand tightly, her shaking.

He led her to a small opening near a wall, away as they could be from the conglomeration of dancers.

He started off slow to help her relax.

She had trouble following the beat. Each time the base sounded she would fumble, which was frequently.

Adrien didn’t know much about her. He knew she took ballet, acro, and freestyle. And it was the last that he wanted to tap into.

He listened for a moment when one song bled into another, and used the moment to slip his arm around her waist, placing his palm firmly on her stomach, feeling the muscles shift and tense.

As soon as the sound dropped low enough, he dipped down to speak into her ear.

“Relax. I’m not going to try anything. I just want to dance.”

He felt her shoulders relax in his chest. She nodded.

He slid his hand down her other arm until he touched her wrist, then he pulled it up to wrap around his neck.

He never noticed how thin she was. Her clothes weren’t particularly baggy, but they didn’t show off her narrow shoulders, her tapered waist, her slim hips, her slender legs.

They began to move, his hips guiding hers in slow motions, his hand pulling her stomach in to force the proper movement. Every time the beat sounded, they would shift. It came quicker and quicker, matching his rushing pulse.

As Marinette began to react to the music, Adrien pulled her hand from his neck and spun her around to face him, his other hand sliding over her rib cage, feeling her smooth skin, resting between her shoulder blades.

Her leg hooked around his and she leant back, arching her back so he couldn’t see her face, her free arm behind her, the other gripping his for balance. When she came up, it was with a snap, her eyes closed.

As she fell into a rhythm, Adrien began to feel like he was the one following. As she began to sweat, her face and chest glowing pink, he nearly lost his footing.

Faster and faster they moved, hands sliding over skin, hips moving in tandem, chest heaving with effort, exhaustion, energy. Songs blurred one into the other, time fading away all together. Some ballet mixed in, along with moves that didn’t belong to anything.

Adrien was only aware of movement, and contact. Sweat. Breath. Skin.

He lifted her, his arm hooked around her leg, over his shoulder, and spun her.

As he placed her back down, his lips to her shoulder, so close he could feel the heat of her skin, their breaths synchronized. They heard applause, the music fading. The night was over.

They separated, looking around, They were alone, surrounded by people, just them in this little world they’d created.

Marinette’s paint had faced at the forehead and around the nose. Had his done the same?

“WIll you be here again?”

Her chest was still heaving, the sweat glistening as the light on it moved. “I think I will.”

“Good.” He pulled her hand to his lips, brushing her knuckles, not quite a kiss. “I look forward to dancing with you again, my lady.”


End file.
